While not exactly a cooperative story, this tale could not be told without the assistance of several good friends who provide a sounding board and insight into the male libido.

He watched her, though she tried to keep her movements hidden. When she thought no one was looking at her, one delicate fingertip would trace the bruise on her wrist that only he knew was concealed beneath the long sleeve of her silk blouse. Her half-closed eyes betrayed none of her thoughts but he knew her too well – the slight shift in her breathing was all he needed to know that she re-lived each moment of the night before. Keeping his gaze directed at her face, he placed his drink down on the tabletop with deliberate carelessness, the sound of that impact shattering her trance, instinctively drawing her eyes up as her hands fell apart. He felt regret for a moment as she controlled herself quickly, and he hid his disappointment as she murmured a response to another in the crowd. Never before any other eyes had they shared these dangerous things, yet some part of her longed to have it known, wanted them all to see the evidence of his passion engraved in her living flesh.

He joins her on the sofa, his hand sliding up along her spine so casually, knowing how sensitive her skin remains after one of their special encounters. As his fingers brush over the collar of her blouse their quest is rewarded with a shudder so slight he could feel it but no one else in the room could have seen any reaction. He touches, there, at the nape of her neck again and senses the pulse of her heart growing in tempo. His hand wraps around her slight neck, grasping firmly for just an instant, only long enough to hear her sharply indrawn breath. Rewarded, his smile sports an element of satisfaction. Now he knows she will find a way to draw him off. She can no longer deny the craving for his touch, the way he has forced her to need.

Her eyes beg him to follow as she makes her way to the kitchen. He pauses a moment in the doorway, watching her ,noting how vulnerable she is, studying the sight of her long legs with only the very hint of a garter peeking from under her short skirt . He savors the anticipation, planning his next move with care. Two long strides across the room and her back is pressed against his chest, her hips pinned between him and the countertop. She tenses at the sense of his body so near hers, parting her lips as she hears the sound of his leather against her silk. Only when he stands behind her like this does she feel the fear rise for a moment - she can no longer deny how small she truly is in his arms. The mass of his body and the long open sweep of his leather trenchcoat conceals them both from all observers, freeing her to respond to his every desire. He seems so perfectly controlled until he buries his face in her hair, drawing in her scent like a crazed beast, his hands gripping tightly about her waist. Tipping her head back to look up into his eyes draws him down to probe her mouth with his tongue, gentle at first then forcing her to open, the pressure of his lips bruising as they crush down upon hers. Her first moan is forced from her throat and silenced by his hungry mouth while his hand seeks out the tender skin on the inside of her wrist and circles it in a gentle warning of the consequences should she be heard.

The touch on her aching skin pulls her mind free for a moment to cast her glance around the room. Inside she is torn – the moisture trickling between her thighs mixes with the sheen of sweat on her skin – wanting to be surrender and needing to keep this dark desire a secret. The choice is taken from her as he suddenly lifts her off her feet with the power of his arms. Slowly he moves her farther from the crowd and a single word escapes her, "Outside". Her hands clutch at his neck in a moment of panic as she feels herself slipping to the ground before he shifts her entire weight to his right arm. Her face hides against his powerful shoulder, and the barest touch of his skin removes all thought of crying out from her mind, she might escape his touch but never outrun her own need. She tenderly explores his neck with teeth and tongue while his pulse pounds against her leaving no doubt in her mind as to what awaits them both on the other side of the door.

The cool night air seems to swirl around them like a caress as he selects a car in the driveway, depositing her roughly against the unyielding metal hood, feeling her thighs part instinctively to wrap around his hips. She flinches away from the brutal metal surface, driving her pelvis into his before she can stop herself – hips resting on the car, legs forced apart by his body, the incredible heat pours out of her, soaking her satin thong. Goosebumps rise on her tender flesh as the breeze chills her overheated skin and she burrows her arms under the protection of his trenchcoat. His hands grip her thighs, nails pressing into the unguarded bare flesh above her stockings. Gasping for breath her head falls back and in the light of the moon he sees her eyes, glowing with yearning. His thumbs slide under the edge of the thin fabric that covers her sex, stretching until one side tears free.

Her back arcs up to him in eagerness as the barrier between them fails, one hand frantically working at the clasp of his pants, nearly sobbing in frustration until he silences her cries with his mouth. Her blouse is forced up as his hands claw at her back, the closeness of their bodies impeding her battle to free him. Nails dragging on the rough fabric, at last she draws him out with gently teasing fingertips – already fiercely hard, demanding entrance to her body. Hips thrusting forward, he drives into her violently, she finds no escape from the prison of his arms as her body is drawn onto his cock. Her moan shatters the stillness of the night as he yanks her blouse down to sink his teeth into the curve of her breast, his cheek pressed to her throat as he feels her scream building, his own pleasure mounting as her body spasms around his hardness. Her scream destroys his own control and he spills inside her welcoming body.

Supported gently in his arms, she slides down the hood of the car to stand unsteadily on the ground next him. He smoothes down the silk blouse, giving a final gentle kiss to the perfect impression of his teeth in her breast. Reaching up, she demands a last kiss before strolling back into the party, tossing a glance over her shoulder at the site of their encounter. As she reaches for the doorknob, she turns back to meets his eyes and trails one finger along the line of her cleavage, dipping down to caress the darkening bruise. Laughter spills into the night as he acknowledges that she was the hunter tonight.

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